


He said 'Fuck'

by Green_Sphynx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: BAMF Lance (Voltron), BAMF Shiro (Voltron), Blood and Gore, Dismemberment, Dying Confessions, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt Shiro (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Whump, M/M, Major Character Injury, Near Death, Original Alien Monster, Pining Lance (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) Whump, Whump, why hurt one when you can hurt both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 04:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21488053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: A classical 'simple mission, what can go wrong' scenario goes very, very wrong. Between just Shiro and Lance, a whole lot of Galra and an alien monster, the Paladins lose a lot more than they were prepared to.
Relationships: Lance/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 210





	He said 'Fuck'

They were back to back and completely overwhelmed, but Lance could at least appreciate that if he was going to die today, it was next to his hero and crush. He did some pretty awesome moves saving Shiro's life a few times too.

The surface station they had gone to infiltrate while the rest of the team worked on the one in orbit of the planet turned out to be a whole lot more heavily guarded than expected. For all their information from the Blades, Pidge's spying algorithms and even Blue's scans, there should only have been a handful of sentries and Galra soldiers here.

Instead, they were facing a small army of them.

It had started out with suspiciously few sentries, but when they took those out with ease, the rest started popping up like daisies. They didn't look like they came fresh off the boat though, many of them already damaged, all of them dusty with the planet's blue-grey grime. Lance realised with a sudden sort of finality that the Galra had been digging below the surface station, and all their info had been quite literally the tip of the ice berg.

There was little they could do about it now. The rest of the team was not available to come down and help them, and they were fighting a losing battle.

Shiro was littered in wounds, his armour cracked in more places than it was whole anymore, and bleeding so much that Lance could feel the sticky heat of it through his suit when they fell back into their make-shift formation - back to back.

Shiro had definitely been taking the worst of the damage with his close range fighting, but Lance was painfully aware the Galra were playing a longer strategy on him. Namely, all the fire on him had been focused on his left leg. Shiro's armour was damaged, but Lance just lost the armour on his upper leg entirely.

"Are you alright?" Shiro asked, shoulders pressing up hard against Lance's so they could talk as quietly as possible, slowly shifting around while taking stock of their enemies surrounding them.

"Pretty sure they're going to take out my left leg soon," Lance murmured, "but I'm not hurt yet. You've been taking the brunt of it."

Shiro cursed, and if the situation had been any less dire Lance might've laughed about it. It was a shame he could not tattle to Pidge that their illustrious leader opened a dirty language book there. "I expected them to go for your bayard, with the amount of damage you're doing with it."

Lance hummed in agreement, halting their slow turning movement to stop facing a group of sentries taking aim. The Galra had given them a second to breathe, probably to catch a breath and strategise themselves, but the reprieve was over.

"Ready to dance, Shiro?" Lance joked, cocking his gun to find the best angle to take the sentries before they got to them.

"I'm always ready to dance with you, Lance."

The response took Lance off guard, but the split second of his surprise was not what caused his downfall. While Shiro leaped forward like he was on a spring to attack a group of enemies, Lance shifted back to stabilise himself, and that was all the Galra hiding in the outer corner of their periphery needed.

The blast was unlike any of the other shots fired, much heavier and ear-splittingly loud by itself. The realisation of his left leg's weakness was almost an afterthought as it met with searing pain and then numbness, his weight dropping down to the floor like a bag of rocks.

Somewhere behind the pulsing pain of the noise in his ears, Lance could hear Shiro scream in anger, more feral than he ever heard the man, but he did not dare to pay it any mind.

He needed… he needed to find his bayard and keep fighting. He should not have dropped his bayard. He could not leave Shiro to fight on his own.

There was no feeling in his left leg whatsoever, but the right one was hurting something fierce, like the armour had cracked and pushed into the meat of his thigh. Neither of them was very useful while Lance scrabbled his hands over the dust and grime to find his bayard again, heaving a breath in relief when he found it.

Lance managed to prop himself up on his elbows, and he was overly aware of how this locked his position, how much he was unable to_ see_ _around_ him, but it was the best he could do. At least he managed to land himself somewhat facing Shiro - how he made a full turn in his fall would be a question for later, if there was a later - so he was able to take a few fast shots and keep several soldiers from jumping his leader's back.

The Galra seemed less than pleased finding Lance was still fighting, but when a few made a move to come towards him, they were all halted in their tracks by the loudest, deepest roar Lance had ever heard.

Next thing, the Galra were retreating like their arses were on fire.

Shiro stayed on task for a few ticks longer to take out the sentries that were still on him, but as soon as the last of them fell he turned around sharply to find Lance. Something inside Lance preened at the concern, even if he knew it probably had everything to do with him potentially missing a leg - he had not yet built up the courage to try glance over a shoulder and see if both legs were still present - and likely nothing with Shiro's personal feelings towards Lance.

Lance took the horrified look on Shiro's dusty, bloody face as a bad sign.

An even worse sign, however, was the ground around the hole in the floor up ahead cracking, and three claws each as large as the black Paladin appearing over the edge to dig into the hard soil and draw out a terrifyingly huge monster.

That… _ definitely _ explained why the Galra they'd been fighting were already looking rather banged up, why they were ready and set to play a long game of 'destroy the leg' on their enemy, _ and _ why they were so quick to book it just now.

It was hard to make out much on the alien creature, except that it had a multitude of claws that was definitely not limited to those three, and each having an even more numerous amount of sharp pointy fingers. The main body appeared to be a big chunk covered with rough fur - or feathers, or spikes, or whatever the aliens on this planet grew - but there was no head distinguishable.

Shiro tried to run to Lance, but his short human legs had nothing on the multi-limbed creature behind him. He got maybe halfway until he was snatched up in the air by three of the claws - a preferred number of hands to use, Lance noted dully - and lifted high off the ground.

Lance did the only thing he could think of, and that was lift his bayard and _ shoot_.

The creature jerked at being hit, but rather than just dropping Shiro and coming after Lance, it _ ripped _ a leg off the black paladin like he was breaking a gingerbread cookie in his hands. Only then he dropped both parts of Shiro and came to Lance at an alarming speed.

Without a head or even visible front on the creature, Lance was completely taken by surprise by a large maw opening towards him, filled front to back with sharp, spike-like teeth glistening in a colour that Lance was fairly sure to be the same as Galra blood. Lance instinctively threw his right arm in front of him to protect his head, only for it to be mauled.

Watching some hundred spiky teeth sink into his arm, straight through the armour, and biting it clean off his body was definitely going to go right up there on his list of most horrifying sights Lance ever saw, right next to Shiro's leg being ripped off in front of him.

But there was no time to feel horrified. There was no time to be traumatised or feel pain or shock. Lance could dimly hear Shiro screaming behind the creature, and as long as Shiro was still alive, Lance could not falter. As long as there was a chance Shiro could survive this encounter, Lance had to put out _ everything _ he had to make it happen.

So he lifted his left hand, miraculously still holding his bayard this time, and transformed his gun to the biggest blaster he had on offer. The creature's maw opened again and Lance just shot, a raw scream ripping from his throat.

He should not have opened his mouth, because it turned out that the inside of the creature's mouth was unexpectedly vulnerable compared to how little damage it had taken on its outside. There was a gush of dark blue blood that hit Lance in the face, blinding him to the roaring beast as it pulled away and scrambled to cover its maw with the many clawed hands it had.

The roaring turned up another octave and the smell of bitter burning flesh hit Lance like a truck. He tried to spit out blood and wipe his eyes clean, but when he did all he found was Shiro dropping to the floor in front of him, dark blue blood bubbling and cooking on the hot surface of his prosthetic arm, and the creature collapsing in a writhing mess of dark appendages a few of its large steps away from them.

Lance may be missing an arm and probably a leg, he still had all his priorities on Shiro. He would probably have to reassess those priorities the moment the adrenaline in his system stopped numbing the pain, but for now he _ knew _ Shiro was most important, and would always be most important.

Lance dragged himself closer with his one working arm, bayard discarded into a puddle of blue and red blood mixing in the dust, breath rasping through his throat like ice.

"Shiro- Shiro answer me, are you alive? Shiro?!"

"-Lance…" Shiro's voice croaked like he swallowed half the dust in the fight, but Lance let out a small laugh in relief - a laugh that turned into a painful hacking and coughing almost immediately. A hot hand appeared between his shoulder blades almost immediately, as if rubbing gentle circles there would actually help at this point.

Still, Lance offered a lopsided grin in thanks, trying not to grimace at how beaten up and bloody Shiro was. He got covered in that creature's blood himself, so he couldn't be looking that much better.

"Thank god you survived that," Lance managed, despite the protests of his throat and lungs at the talking, but Shiro made a dismissive noise almost like a growl.

"Thank god _ you _ survived, Lance. I don't know what I would've done- god your arm, your _ leg_… I'm so sorry, Lance. This is my fault for breaking up the team for a quick mission, I should know to never underestimate any Galra base, I-"

"Shhh," Lance grimaced another attempt at a grin, but holding himself up on one elbow was becoming too much for him. He let himself flop to the ground and rolled slightly onto his good arm - his _ remaining _ arm, he should say - and searched for eye contact again to make sure Shiro wouldn't panic any further.

"It's not your fault, Shiro." And great, he was slurring now. Lance supposed that was part of the whole 'bleeding to death' deal. "And we kicked some major arse together, didn't we? Pretty cool way to go… winning a fight with my hero."

"Lance, you're not going to die." Shiro sounded so certain, Lance almost believed it. He drifted slightly while Shiro hailed the Castle of Lions and the rest of the team to get them down here as fast as they could, but he was pulled back by Shiro's flesh hand on his cheek, rubbing away alien blood.

"You're not going to die," Shiro insisted.

"You should get y'rself into a pod first," Lance slurred by ways of an answer. "Y'lost less blood… I'll never forgive myself if you die."

"Lance." The admonishing tone was not going to stop Lance. Like it ever did.

"Y'know I've been in love with you since, like, the Garrison?" Lance couldn't help the smirk coming back to his face at Shiro's stupefied look. "Got a crush soon as I saw ya.. Can only have a hero crush f'r so long 'till it turn to… to love…" he drifted off, eyes slipping closed only for a moment before Shiro shook him back awake.

"Don't you _ dare_, Lance. Don't you _ dare _ tell me that and then die before the team gets here. I don't have the strength to pull closer and kiss you now, so you better fucking be alive for that when we come out of the pods!"

"Hehehe…" it was more of a breath than a laugh, but it was all Lance could manage. "Shiro said _ fuck_…"

It was a whole lot less funny when he came out of the healing pod and it was Keith and Hunk catching him together, carrying him straight to a bed that was set up in the corner. Lance was pretty sure it hadn't been there before, but Shiro was sitting on it, balancing himself with a hand, so Lance was more than happy to be laid down on it.

At least until the realisation set in.

The realisation that Shiro was balancing with a hand while _ sitting _because he lost a leg.

The realisation that Lance himself was two limbs short.

"_Fuck._"

"No cursing, Lance."

Lance was ready to start shouting, probably in hysterics, that he had all the right to curse right now, but the push of warm lips to his own cut off both his words and his thoughts, bringing him right back to his ill-timed confession in the blood of an alien monster.

And okay, maybe he could be convinced not to curse, even with the given situation, if this was what he got for it.

Because as bad as the situation was, there was at least a glimmer of hope if he got to have Shiro by his side.


End file.
